


A Nightcap

by Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-23
Updated: 2007-11-23
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Slade is surprised they made it back to the hotel</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nightcap

He had pocketed a cool half mil. She had the satisfaction of knowing that was one less drug shipment hitting the streets. Both were riding the high of a mission done right, with precision and speed.

In the back of his mind, he was half-surprised they made it back to the hotel room. He had been able to smell her adrenaline high shifting to more lusty pheromones almost the moment they knew they had succeeded.

It was not something that he found undesirable.

Two steps past the door, kick to close it solid, hand fumbling back to slip the bar lock, and then it was all about her, getting out of gear, with the bed being an optional accessory to what he had in mind.

He knew the catches of her armor as well as his own, and she had learned his well. Their hands moved at fevered paces, getting the armor out of the way, so that skin could be kissed, caressed, bruisingly held. She was so light, so small as he lifted her up, kisses devouring her lips, her throat, her shoulders. She obligingly wrapped her legs around his waist, writhing with promises of what was to come, even as her hands tangled in his short hair. Her mouth was fierce in her return kisses, her teeth sharp against his ear. 

The thought of the wall being enough of a brace did cross his mind. So did the chair or the couch in the sitting room. The way she begged to be fucked, to be driven absolutely to her limits with her whispered words and body's motion, though, demanded the bed. He walked across the room, into the bedroom, his hands sure to leave bruises on her fair skin with how strongly he held onto her.

Laying her down on the bed with a soft growl to push her hands up over her head, he studied her for a long moment. Long enough for her to mewl and lick at her lips enticingly. He did enjoy her mouth, but right now he had other ideas. He stretched out over her, to one side, his thigh between hers, while one hand caught her wrists and the other teased a trail over pert nipples. She arched up into the touch, eyes closing with a soft sigh. 

They flew open when his fingers twisted at one nipple, hard and drawing the blood to the surface. He smiled at the soft 'ooh' she moaned, and replaced his fingers with teeth. She was soon twisting, making little cries of pain and pleasure as he teased and nipped with bites, kisses, and licks over both breasts, her ribs, her throat. She would be thankful of the high collar on her usual costume, come the morning, for the vivid marks he left.

The entire time he was using his mouth on her, his thigh pressed hard against her sex, feeling her shift and buck as the feelings he incited took her past thought and into primal instinct. He smelled the arousal, could almost taste it in the sweat on her skin, and did all he could to drive it to a frenzied peak. His own desires flared sharply when she mewed in complete need and want, grinding herself against his muscled thigh in an effort to take her release.

A quick shift, rising and moving back let him growl at her to turn over, rise up. She did, resting on knees and then her hands, presenting a lovely line of muscled back and curving hips. One large hand settled on her hips, the other at the back of her neck. Her neck pressed up into the grasp there, a purring moan escaping her. The immediate buck of her hips against his, as he lined himself up to take her, was a gratifying feeling, but he wanted more, knew she needed it. His body brushed against hers, hard cock straining at the self-control he was using.

She moaned, pressing back again and again, trying to coax him to more. He answered by rocking against her, his cock riding the hot, slick cleft, his tip just barely teasing her opening. She cried out, frustrated at how much he was able to hold back, even as her body demanded so much and quivered in anticipation.

“Ask for what you want.”

That low growl sent a shiver through her, but it got the full effect he wanted. The lines of her body, the arch of her neck...all of it went proudly submissive to him, before she answered.

“Please, Slade...make me yours again.”

A hard slide inside her, going to the hilt within that tight heat provoked a hissing moan from him, while she cried out at the controlled violence. The immediate press back against his thrust was unfeigned, the throaty moan that followed feeling herself so full was sincere, as was the protest when he drew almost completely back. 

The rhythm intensified with every thrust after, her cries punctuated by the growling grunts he issued. His hand on her neck tightened; there would be more bruises in the morning. The one on her hip steadied him, let him keep a vague focus on the here and now, rather than get lost within her, within their primal meeting of bodies. As he felt his release coming close, with her trembling in an effort to hold back her own, he tapped her hip twice, and cried out hard with her, as they both shuddered through the release of all the adrenaline and lust.

The feel of her tucked up beneath him, when his vision cleared, was nearly as gratifying as the actual sex, and he shifted them just a little, pinning her with one leg and his arm, the covers drawn up to keep them from cooling too quickly.

She was fast asleep almost before her breathing evened out.


End file.
